


FFXIV Flufftober

by ninnie_eats_chips



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Canon Compliant, Crystal Tower Questline G'raha Tia (Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn), Drinking Games, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Flufftober, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Major Character Injury, Never Have I Ever, Other, POV G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch, Past Violence, Pining, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Relationship, Psychological Trauma, Reunions, Singing, Sleeping Together, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Suggestive, Time Skips, Violence, bard stuff, no. 6 subtle affections, number 3 moderately spicy I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:52:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninnie_eats_chips/pseuds/ninnie_eats_chips
Summary: A week worth of couple-themed FFXIV writings based on a group of "Flufftober" prompt lists mixed and matched!May include different characters. Rating will vary, so see the rating by chapter!
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 53





	1. the forbidden candy (T)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying a thing! I wanted to write about something I enjoyed so this seemed like a fun topic! My weakness: Loooove. I hope to be able to nab a couple of my other XIV chars for this as well, and possibly some non-specific WoL. :3
> 
> So yeah I mixed-and-matched from a group of different Flufftober prompts I found so I can have somewhat of a choice & have more fun with it. Just gonna take it easy, so if I don't get 1 every day, I don't. Doing this for hecks, not submitting to anything. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 prompt: Candy (G'raha Tia/Specific WoL) - Rating T  
> They say that love blinds. G'raha is aware of Lily's love for chocolate. Is she then blind to all else around her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Number 1 is Candy! There were more thought provoking ones but somehow this one gave me more.....thoughts. And I figured I have not talked about Lily's chocolate habits enough. Or at all? A shame, really.

G’raha had paused his reading, looked up from the book in his lap and held his head in his hand, amused. The subject of his attention, nearby on the bedroom floor and lounging in a pile of colorful pillows—had been reading a novel just as well. The two of them often spent time together this way, exchanging more content sighs than words for a few hours, either outside or in (today was a day more suited for staying in), and this afternoon was no exception.

But as his attention started to fail, the repeated rustling of candy wrappers perked G’raha’s ears each time until he could no longer focus, and was much more interested in watching what Lily was doing.

Her back was turned to him, but each time she unwrapped a new piece of chocolate, the tip of her ivory tail would swish back and forth at its resting place. He knew she would pause, maybe close her eyes for a moment to savor the taste, and let the chocolate melt on her tongue before picking up where she left off. He leaned his body and craned to see past some of the pillows and spotted her stash of wrappers; counted _seven,_ this time.

Lily’s tastes in confectionery were very simple, yet somewhat specific, G’raha noted. She liked an assortment of hardened-sugar candies, especially things that were flavored orange. But mostly the Warrior of Light’s vice was _chocolate—_ the finer variety of it. She was, by definition as Y’shtola had explained to him; _‘a recovering acute chocoholic’_ from her time in Ishgard. Though it seemed she was on the verge of a relapse. 

G’raha wasn’t wont to stop her indulgence.

Rather, he couldn’t help the amused chuckle that eventually escaped him while watching the tip of Lily’s cute little tail flick upward with the anticipation of another bite—however rude the habit was, regrettably used to scrying on her from afar.

The sudden peep from him caused Lily to look back over her shoulder. An absent “hm?” came from her throat.

To which G’raha simply answered, “Nothing,” and then pretended to go back to reading just long enough for Lily to turn her head again.

A further observation: it was with the same absence that slender fingers reached for the dish next to her, missing the first time before finding her prize. 

He waited for her to finish crumpling.

“I love you.” No response.

“I love you, my dear.”

“Mm.”

Such a state of half-consciousness. She was there whenever she was very distracted, for better or for worse. The Auri belonged to the land of raucous romance and decadent chocolate right now, and the better part of G’raha dared not to shake her from her little moment of paradise.

The _impish half,_ however, wanted to play a harmless trick, and grinned at the thought. So he quietly closed the cover of his own book, crept a few steps from the bed, and got into the nightstand— 

Where Lily kept a fine assortment of the most scrumptious, delectable, _colorful rock candies_ she possessed, when they were not in use. 

G’raha opened the padded box and kept his lower lip between his teeth, ears pinned back as he checked over his shoulder to see that his poking around remained yet unnoticed. _This was a terrible idea. Of course she would notice…_

_Which forbidden candy would he choose?_

The Miqo’te twiddled his fingers over the faintly glowing stones, each marked with their respective symbol, and tried to choose. If asked what he was up to, he would sweat bullets and claim merely to have taken interest before putting them back where they belonged. The stones _were_ interesting, and for a moment, G’raha was once again impressed by the veritable proofs of Lily’s skill before realizing his distraction. The obsidian stone with the falling comet which G’raha knew too well, had definitely seen better days... He gave it a gentle stroke, honoring where it had been and what it had been through before he continued being nefarious. 

‘ _Nothing pointy,’_ He told himself just in case, and that narrowed down the selection a little more until he picked out the mark of the Astrologian—the _perfect_ tease to hungry eyes and fumbling fingers—with its round shape and deceptively caramel coloration. And while any scholar with decent vision and a present mind (operative words) wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at putting a soulstone in their mouth—as G’raha turned it back and forth under the lamplight, he decidedly couldn’t assure himself that a small, red-headed and naive kit wouldn’t have.

Replacing the rest of the stones back inside the drawer in their box like nothing had happened, G’raha closed his hand around the Astrologian stone and casually approached his lover from behind. When he plucked a chocolate for himself and pretended to eat it, Lily paid him no mind. What G’raha actually did was replace the stone inside the wrapper and twist it. Then, with all the grace and stealth of a skilled shinobi, deposited it into the bowl with the rest before coming to roost on the pillows on the other side of his victim. The only acknowledgement he received was a tiny smile when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and only by then did G’raha feel equal parts guilty as he did amused.

He waited a full minute, and when Lily turned the page and she didn’t reach for another candy unprompted, he nuzzled her shoulder.

“Had your fill of chocolates already?” He forced a purr.

“I think so.” Ears drooped. 

As it turned out, all heroes had their hard limits. And this was not something he wanted to explain right away. 

_Perhaps he was really past his teasing prime in this new life..._

_“Ahem-_ I think you deserve one more, a-at least. After all you did this week… helping out with that caravan that was under attack even when you deserve your rest more than anyone…” With every decent lie, came a bit of honesty.

There was what he took to be a genuine smile filling out Lily’s pink lips when he lifted his head to see if his encouragement had worked.

“Well,” she said with a little sigh. “If _you_ say so.” And G’raha held his breath as she took the false promise of bliss immediately into her hands.

He had half a mind to say “I got you” now, before his plan had come to fruition—that was to say, _before she could get mad at him._ But instead, hopeful, terrified eyes observed as Lily opened the wrapper without even looking, slid the whole rock into her mouth, grinned wildly and—

The Miqo’te yelped as she immediately faced him, launching the circular _‘candy’_ from her lips at his chest, and bursted into laughter when he flew to his feet. He had leapt from his skin like the way a housecat would from spotting an unmoving bag on the floor, and it seemed as though _he_ had been the one fooled, this time.

“Did you really believe I would eat my own soulstone?!”

Standing a fulm away with his fur still fluffed, G’raha pouted glancing at the saliva-coated stone now on the floor after hitting him square in the chest.

“N-no, I thought you-!”

Lily tossed the novel to the side and got to her knees as she jabbed her finger up at him.

“You’re about as sneaky as Jaye after a night at the tavern! Honestly! I knew what you were up to as soon as you told me to have another!”

He paused to picture his poor fellow Seeker deep in his drink, and took offense.

“That bad, am I?” G’raha seated himself. “... Wait, but not before? Mayhap there is hope for me, yet~?” 

He tilted his head, widened his eyes at her in hopes of softening whatever blow may yet come after Lily’s initial reaction. But surprisingly, she didn’t respond to that. She was looking somewhere else, then covered her mouth. She was looking at… his hand… _oh._

“You forgot something,” Came her muffled voice through her palm.

“Yes, I… I see that, now.”

His own hand: brown, sticky. Chocolatey. Quite what he deserved, if he was being honest with himself. Lily did a _‘come here’_ motion with her hand. G’raha just looked at her questioningly before scooting closer to her on his knees with his dirty palm open. She took his wrist.

“What are you- O- _oh, ooo_ kay.” Slowly, in yet another unexpected twist for him, her tongue tickled up his palm and lapped the melted chocolate clean while he was still speechless. His fur fluffed out for the second time, and by the shiver that ran through him, he couldn’t tell whether he was turned on or off after the events that had just happened in order. 

Although it left G’raha with an… oddly familiar feeling. Like there was a memory from their old adventures he couldn’t quite recall. _Had he actually lost some memories when he…?_

The Miqo’te blinked twice and labored to ignore the strange feeling, coming back to the fuzzy one he had after having his hand licked by his significant other, who was now poking her tongue out at him. Not angry though, thankfully.

“I hope you learned your lesson.” 

G’raha made a sheepish grin. 

“I’m not sure what I learned; that I should refrain from pranking you, or that you can spit with a force that would give an old gentleman a run for his money?”

Lily gave him a long look of sorts that time. Eventually, she reached for one more piece that led him to asking, _“Another?”_

“Steal it from me.” Ruby eyes widened, and as the Auri put the last piece of chocolate between her teeth, kept talking.

“As I know you are so good at that~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was leaning into humor more but to me this is still fluff!! Domestic couples messing with each other is a form of love, can I get a hell yeah? *hell yeahs quietly by myself*


	2. meandering in the meadow (G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Meadow (G'raha Tia/Specific WoL) - Rating G (there's like one "arse" in there but other than that this is a very innocent ficlet lol)  
> Somewhat older, somewhat wiser, and -completely- unable to be surprised, Lily crouched in waiting in the meadow while a tiny prowler picked up on her scent...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up picking from the same list as the previous one! I kind of like these simple topics...  
> The word for Day 2 is "Meadow"!
> 
> And did somebody say kidfic? My heart is full. :3

“Mama! Mama!”

Lily hunched low in the tall, dry grass and covered her mouth to stifle her giggles of adoration. She was playing hide-and-seek with her son, and it wouldn’t do to give herself away like last time. So the Auri kept quiet. Only just managed not to sneeze from the earthy dust all around her.

Still she grinned from horn to horn into her hand. She could spot a tiny pair of red ears (the one that wasn’t limp swiveling back and forth) through the grass when Lest got closer to finding her. He was learning to use his senses, maybe tapped into a bit of natural instinct on his father’s side… though he hadn’t learned to be sneaky himself overmuch.

Just when Lily thought that Lest might find her, he whipped around when he heard movement in the grass, and his feet soon pattered off in that direction.

“I’ll get you!” He called, voice getting further away, and she sighed as she moved after him slowly on her haunches. Of course she didn’t want to give away her position, but the last thing she wanted was for him to get too far away from her and get lost. While the orange light of dusk had lent atmosphere to their game, the sun was ducking fast behind the horizon, so they couldn’t play at the farm for much longer before the risk of losing him in the tall grass or coming across nocturnal predators arose. They just had time for one more round.

The round had gone on for long enough though, and she thought ‘Mama’ was going to have a word with ‘Papa’ about moving around so much. While Lily tended to stay in one place and wait for her son to find her, G’raha liked to prowl around him in a circle, sometimes throwing rocks and such in another direction to make the game much harder. _He was too young and too slow;_ only three-and-a-half summers, and eventually someone was going to have to be found so they could _quit_ the farm and go home with the pumpkin Lest had picked out.

Lily rubbed the sleeves of her sweater to create warmth. She was starting to get chilly, too.

When something shook the grass near her but didn’t approach, her heart began to pound. _Was she being hunted?_ She wasn’t afraid for herself, but where was Lest right now? She didn’t hear him.

When Lily called his name, however, two hands larger than hers reached through the grass and pulled her forward as she emitted a little shriek. She fell off of her balance, through a curtain of yellow grass and directly onto G’raha’s chest. He had a catlike smile on him, and while Lily’s mouth was dropping open with indignation for startling her, her husband had the audacity to put his finger to his own lips to make her shush.

_“You’re such an arse!”_ She accused with a whisper-soft yell. Miqo’te ears wiggled up at her, then he pulled her down for a short but sweet kiss that lingered.

_“Shh. We’re hiding, remember~?”_

Her scorning gaze could never last long. She loved him _too much._ She looked over G’raha’s growing braid lying in the dead grass beneath, and he was beaming up at her like she’d never done anything wrong in her life and never would. His eyes were so beautiful, almost glowing in the dusk. G’raha pressed both of her chilled hands against his chest where she could feel his heartbeat, and barring the musky smell of grass and dirt on his clothes from having rolled around in it so much, she felt like she could lay down against the warmth of his chest and fall asleep that way.

Lily cupped his cheeks, rosy with the chill of the air as hers were, and stole one more kiss from his lips. They shared a long and loving stare on the ground. The Auri could hear— _feel_ a gentle vibration underneath her.

Suddenly, there was another rapidly-approaching attacker. Lest bursted through the grass with a loud “Roar!!” that stopped Lily’s heart, and the couple _oofed_ in unison when the third little body jumped onto their pile.

“Found Mama! Found Papa, too! I win!!”

“Very good, Lest! You are a hunter in the making!” G’raha cheered his son before he clambered off from Lily’s back and allowed her to roll off too, onto her side. 

Lest was grinning with pride at the both of them, happiness infectious, bouncing up and down with boundless energy only a child could have (though Lily would give him five minutes in the back of the carriage to fall asleep).

“I did good, Mama?” Round little eyes asked her this time, and the tired mother nodded. She reached out to retie the deep orange scarf she made him that was slipping off.

“Mhmm. But now it’s time to leave, I’m afraid.”

He showed her a dramatic pout then, looking more like his father than ever. She was a little offended when he turned and aimed his pout at G’raha, as if he didn’t accept only _her_ authority. But G’raha gave a concurring nod. 

She gained his attention back.

“You know what good little hunters get, though? To decorate their All-Saints-Wake pumpkin _however_ they want.” A boop at Lest’s nose, and the little one was smiling again.

“Can it be a paissa? Or a chocobo?”

G’raha offered a hand to help Lily up from the ground, during which they traded a pitiful look for their shared lack of artistic ability to make their son’s vision come to life. Facing the reality that they were going to need Uncle Alphinaud’s help to _draw_ the image in mind, a couple of dud pumpkins, and a hand more skilled with a knife to actually cut out an animal shape.

Still, G’raha promised the world.

“Of course!” Lest was joyful again.

A nervous laugh escaped the Auri’s lips thinking about the upcoming mess. _The guts. The seeds…_ At least it would be an opportunity for another family gathering.

She reached out for her son, hand no bigger than a dresser drawer knob, while G’raha took the other so that they were on either side of him.

“Ready to run?” He inquired, regarding them each one-by-one.

When Lily looked at G’raha, his ruby eyes glittered in the remnants of the autumn sun, and he grinned so wide at her he showed his teeth. His red tail, a flicking wisp behind him.

With a couple nods, the three of them dashed hand-in-hand blazing a trail through the meadow as grass tickled their faces—and left the little boy between them laughing all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I'm so embarrassed I wish I could tell you I didn't have their family a little fleshed out for a while but AHHH.  
> Lest is very Miqo - he just has Lily's green eyes and round pupils, but no Miqo'te markings on his cheeks. He could pass for moonkitty if you don't squint real hard at the actual shape of his features. Baby. ;v;


	3. but you said [we would follow the rules] (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 prompt: "But you said" (Specific WoL/other OC)  
> Jaye has seen much and more - more than he ever wanted. And now he only wants to see one person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I am almost 4 days late with this because: 1) I had to include more context to try to make up for never writing about my side-WoL and I kept getting stuck, and 2) brain keeps giving dial tone noises.
> 
> The only extra detail I think would be helpful to know going into this is that Jaye is Lily's (my main WoL's) childhood friend and they exist alongside each other! He just does more things in the background usually, while Lily is the main-main WoL in my fics...  
> Oh, and his true tribe name is J'haelyn Tia, hence what is referenced herein by his love interest. They're all suncattes in here (aside from Lily) so they speak of each other with the tribe letter dropped. Jaye is his nickname. It's Complicated.
> 
> I have pushed what can be considered fluff. *squints at tags* But it's really what I wanted to write and it's lovey enough for me so oh well. Warning for a little bit spicy & spicy things referenced. ;v;

He’d had the urge to see her before, but never quite so strongly. As someone who moved around as needed and thought ‘home’ was wherever one laid their head at night, he was never really the type to get homesick. Not for La Noscea, not for his people, not exceedingly for a mate (and he’d taken enough of those to fill the void of physical need). 

But there was purpose in Jaye’s return home from Ghimlyt. One person on his mind more than ever who could wipe the atrocities of warfare clean from his mind, if even for a short time; _J’minh Volukhai._

Everyone else he fraternized with was okay, or at least in some state that could be considered ‘fine.’ 

The Scions with which Jaye associated himself when it suited him were fine—albeit somewhat reduced in number—but no one was dead. That included Lily, who had succumbed to a fit and definitely _almost_ died from a blade across the chest, but she was _fine._ He left once he’d seen her on the mend in Ishgard. She was in good hands there and had people who loved her at her bedside, including the former Lord Commander himself.

His sister Asinah, who had suddenly appeared on the battlefield on behalf of their sister tribe? She was alright, too. _“Not fucking at all where I expected you to be”_ Jaye had told her, not to berate her as a tight-fisted older brother, but because she could’ve not been so lucky, and his voice just may have been wavering after having gutted one too many imperial soldiers.

Asinah had left Minh alone at their village in La Noscea, and Jaye was more paranoid than ever. Minh didn’t fight. She could put up her dukes only figuratively. Skilled in the sense that one could convince an innocent man he was guilty of a war crime with the right words. Good with her _mouth_ in all the ways that one could be. One hell of a woman, Jaye thought of her, but not on a battlefield. He had been given a hundred reasons to worry despite being as far away from it all as possible. _What if someone brought the battlefield home?_ Ever was the possibility of treachery when it came to war.

The determined Seeker rode his chocobo home to the isle of Vylbrand like a bolt of lightning along the coast. His heart raced for his lover as Charlemagne‘s talons pounded the dirt, leaving a trail of jet black feathers behind.

Reaching the settlements of his people, Jaye hopped off and walked fast, ignoring one of his J tribe brethren who was still out and about in the dark and was conveniently too stoned to hold a conversation. Aside from him, Jaye crept quietly home with no further encounters. The last person he wanted to run into was his father, or who would’ve been worse right now: _J’volukhai Nunh_ ; Minh’s own sire.

Thankfully, he encountered neither.

Jaye walked into the familiar large hut he knew to be Minh’s. The place looked unbothered, the way it had been left the last time he was home months ago with a few extra hanging beadworks that could’ve only been crafted by her hand. Though he couldn’t see much, late as it was. The first thing he did was call out her name.

A face, _utterly beautiful,_ appeared from behind a tall birch divider decorated with tapestry. The sight of the delicate blonde Miqo’te with the moonlight in her eyes sundered him on the spot.

“Minh!” He said again sharply. She was still visibly surprised by his arrival, stirred awake by his call and still trying to form an appropriate greeting when Jaye threw himself into her arms and captured her lips in a crushing kiss.

“Mm- _mm?”_ Plump lips hummed questioningly against his and he answered by licking deeply into her mouth. She was never one to refuse his affections when he gave them, and not shy with giving her own. Now was no exception, answering with fervor. Minh had never tasted so good, smelled so good—and _oh,_ he purred so loud it was like a growl when gentle fingers stroked in his long hair.

He squeezed her against him when he finally stopped kissing her and allowed her a chance to breathe.

“Haelyn, what’s—?”

“I love you.”

Jaye stole another kiss, playfully snagging her lips with his teeth after. The desire to pick her up and just toss her onto her bed of furs at the first scent of her was nagging at his loins. He could hardly still his tail. A liquid he hardly recognized was forming in the corners of his eyes. 

“Are you alright?”

A pair of wide, green jewels blinked up at him. Like she didn’t understand his sudden return in the middle of the night, the context of the question, or why calloused hands were already sneaking under the hem of her nightclothes.

“Am _I?”_ Minh echoed. “I’d sooner ask you that, Haelyn. Gods, did you hit your head? I’m all for this affection, but what's gotten into you?” 

Jaye had been kissing her neck this time, fingers tight on her sides when he lifted his head and blinked once back down at her. 

Memories of the fight and things that came before tried to push their way back to the forefront. But love and lust still frothed at the surface. 

He swallowed and answered, “The things I’ve seen…” and decided not to finish the thought. “Just... wanted to see you.” There was a weakness in his voice.

“You poor, poor thing…”

Somehow, Minh seemed to understand just from that. She cupped his battle-worn face and Jaye nuzzled her hands, catching her wrist for an open-mouthed kiss that he trailed up her bare arm back to her neck. In a way, it was comforting for _him_ to touch, to feel. It was what he had been waiting for. It was harder than ever to hold back. 

“I want you... I want you, this time.”

It was often they were affectionate. Often to tease, use lips and their mouths on one another to be affectionate. But never more. Never, ever had Jaye made love to Minh. Half of that was their dynamic, as a part of a tribe which strictly upheld the celibacy of its Tias. It had been a game for them to tease and break the rules _without_ breaking the rules. They’d said they didn’t care for them otherwise. But now… _but now…_

His eyes were asking, and Minh was staring again. 

She rubbed an eye. She was tired, had been roused from sleep by something in Jaye’s skin, with longer, messier hair and more scars on his body than when they’d met. She was just wanting to understand what he was on about. His angle—which was completely _upright—_ she already checked, with a scan over his gait.

For a minute, the Tia wondered if she would actually not want him (and he didn’t second-guess himself often). It was sudden, after all. A part of him ached—actually, _most of him ached,_ right now. In pain, in love, in _want._

Minh brushed the long maroon hair away from his face and chuckled like what he’d said was up for interpretation.

Jaye made sure there was no room for guesswork. He curled his brows and brought his forehead against Minh’s and she nuzzled into the arch of his nose until they were a pair of purring lovers. Minh stopped smiling fast. Read the severity of his gaze. Lashes fell heavy and it was enough to make Jaye’s heart skip a beat. His hands were at the ready to shuck her clothes from her body, and in time Minh’s fingernails sank similarly into his open shirt. 

With glazing eyes and the gentle part of lips, she showed Jaye that she understood. She just needed to say that she wanted him.

Minh swallowed. 

“But you said—?”

“Aye, I know what I said.” Jaye’s voice cracked at the end as he pulled her into another deep kiss.

_Some lovers were parted untimely that day of the bloody battle, surely… Why was he still thinking about that?_

“I know what _he_ said… what they all _say-“_

_‘But I’ve seen a fair bit more. I know life is short as hells.’_

Her answer was reciprocation. Her answer was to throw her arms around his neck, kiss roughly, and when hands caressed under her bottom—to climb into his arms so that he was holding her in the middle of the room. 

“Oh, Haelyn.” Minh rubbed away his tears when they fell down. She smiled against his lips and made him smile back. Was the only one who made him feel so silly in the same breath as she used to fill him with passion.

He wanted to throw her down into her bed and make love to her like mad, and he would, once he’d tired of her cooing. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t embarrassed at how emotional his experiences had made him. That he wasn’t flushing a little seeing his mate now (though Jaye was terribly glad for the seventy-percent shroud of darkness they embraced under). 

He chuckled tearfully into the crook of her shoulder. He’d lost his wits completely and needed a long sleep after whatever might come next...

“You know I only played with you because you liked it. You know I am yours to take…” 

Minh gave him one more soft, encouraging kiss on his head, and it was all he needed to do what he’d longed to for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local man has seen some things and wants to make sure he loves on his gf in his lifetime.  
> It's messy, it's bad and I tried. So many details about this man's past shirked.....


	4. song from the sea (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 prompt: Music (Exarch|G'raha Tia/Specific WoL) - Rating T  
> The Exarch hears a sound he has never heard before, from a person he never expects to hear it from...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bard Lily! Another thing I have never written about! She spends most of her time BLM.

The Exarch wanted to pay the Warrior of Darkness a visit. His reason? Only out of politeness, of course.

He had summoned her to this land and asked her to play her part as his champion to save it. She had gone on to consume the light from three lightwardens and slay dozens more sineaters. To not come to offer his support every now and then, and rely solely on scrying and others’ reports about the Warrior’s wellbeing would have been rude, to say the least.

A rude thing for a stranger asking a favor to do. A heinous thing for a  _ friend _ to do.

That was what he called her, from the first;  _ “my friend.” _ And though Lilium expressed her displeasure with him over the details of her summoning from time to time, there were also times when it felt that calling her a friend was appropriate. For Lilium didn’t— _ never _ really stayed mad at him for long—not even back then. Simply set those feelings aside and offered him tea. She was ever quick to cool, to listen to reason and accept his apologies… even when those apologies didn’t deserve to be accepted.

Even when the Exarch felt he had no reason to be called a friend, anymore.

Yes… the hooded stranger only made his way down the hallway to the Warrior’s suite out of formality; a courtesy call of sorts. He did not need to see her. He had no particularly strong  _ desire _ to see her. By all accounts except his own, she was well, and that was good enough for the Exarch. He came only to deliver word of his appreciation and continued support for her valor.

But when the Exarch reached out his crystal hand to knock, a peculiar sound from behind the doors threw him off kilter. Something that would have made his heart skip a beat if it hadn’t been encased in crystal so long ago.

He had learned from his research that Lilium took up the role of a bard in addition to her pursuit of magics, so the harp should have been little surprise to hear. It was, nonetheless.  _ Different. _ But that wasn’t what had the Exarch’s mouth hanging open. 

He had lived long enough to hear many sweet sounds, but never, even in a past life, had he ever known Lilium to  _ sing. _

The Exarch had become a statue in the hallway, succumbed to the faintest siren song. Like he was a lone sailor set adrift on some shore, and was hearing her song from malms away. He couldn’t make out any words he understood. _Actually, was it… Hingan?_ No such language the Crystal Exarch had ever heard in his life. No such words existed here. Mayhap there were one or two similar before the Flood, but, no… he had no knowledge whatsoever of this.

_ Even though when he closed his eyes, he could still feel the vague, tickling strokes of an unknown character being written in his palm by a fingertip. A phantom touch upon his crystal hand. A gentle wisp of aether called Lilium, meant for a man called G’raha Tia—not him. _

Curiosity caused him to lean closer before he could identify that this was inappropriate. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be here. And the last thing he should do is interrupt a moment of peace and content. She hadn’t many of those for herself, and would not get many more in the days to come—no thanks in particular to him.

It was with a restrained politeness that the Exarch committed that quiet lullaby to memory and walked away, for now.

* * *

“You need not sing for me if it makes you overly uncomfortable. I am… more than happy you would share your music with me after everything.”

The Auri blushed, seated adjacent from him at the table, and strummed a chord on her harp. 

“I would  _ like _ to.” She swallowed nervously, knees almost close enough to bump with his. “It’s just-”

Perhaps he had gauged their boundaries too close. Perhaps it would behoove him to move slightly away. He did not know whether to suggest it or just do it and risk offending her, and while he was too busy agonizing about how best to interact with his love at this stage, a chilly, bare foot came forward and hooked around his calf behind the straps of his sandal.

“I never really sang out in front of anyone except for Guydelot.” Lily finished while he was still focusing on not making a visible reaction to the half-conscious touch.

The Exarch only just suppressed his flush, surely having failed anyway with the way his ears had poked straight up.

“Ah... Guydelot? A friend of yours?” He tilted his head, watched the way Lily stopped her absent string-plucking and made a face.

She looked down at the open space between their knees then, getting lost in the folds of his robes. That was how the Exarch knew he was in for a story; when she placed herself somewhere else, back in the shoes of a somewhat greener adventurer. He was interested to say the least.

“Suppose you could say that. We were both students of the Gods’ Quiver, although he greatly preferred song… a-and women, so maybe he did go a little nicer on me despite-“ Lily trailed off with the kick of her feet dangling from the standard-sized chair.

_ “Anyway, _ I don’t know... He encouraged me to sing along one time, and after that it didn’t feel so awkward. Our other companion was someone who felt more trustworthy, though whenever he showed up I felt more like I was being judged. As for Guydelot, I can’t say that I liked or disliked him, so perhaps it was easier to sing with someone neutral to me.”

She huffed. “I-I don’t know why but I feel like I would die if I had to perform for the Scions! In a dream I’ve tried to, but all my teeth fall out just as I open my mouth...”

“I see.”

The Exarch smiled sympathetically as he hung onto the previous thing she had said.

_ ‘Someone who is neutral to you...’ _

He brought his fingers to his lips and lost himself in the recent past. 

The Exarch recalled that moment he’d faltered inside, standing outside her door while she was unaware. Thought at that point, perhaps their relationship could have been considered neutral. At least much more than it was now. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had made himself known back then, would Lily have been able to sing for him? Would she have sung for a shadowed face she had no memories of?

He wanted to ask about what he’d heard that day, but the fact remained that it was never meant for his ears. He had been eavesdropping, however unintentionally. He had never asked to hear it.

“Raha?”

He felt Lily’s foot slip away from his leg at the same time she said his name. Once more, his ears poked up into the air at the foreign sound of it.

That was him. She was talking to  _ him. _

“Y-yes? My apologies, did you say something else?” 

A head shake.

“No, but... two years ago—I guess a long time ago for you now—you used to sing and play the lute, but I never got to hear you sing either.”

“Oh.” Ears drooped instantly. “You’re right. I didn’t, did I-?”

_ “Why?” _ Lily asked, plain and simple, and for a moment the Exarch was stupefied. 

Had he not offered her an explanation back then? Had he simply avoided opening his voice to her for one reason or another? That couldn’t have been.

He had to squeeze his eyes shut, suddenly under scrutiny of his long lifespan to a time when things were very different in order to remember. Tried hard to understand what his younger self was thinking at the time.

“Well, much and more did occur that we never accounted for.” He began, unconvincingly, and observed how Lily’s brows never uncurled themselves, clutching her harp in her hands without playing a note while she waited expectantly.

“I suppose we were both very-”

The Exarch’s eyes widened suddenly then, and the answer to his last question became clearer than ever. 

Many times he had sung and played for others; tribal songs, travelers’ shanties, his favorite Allagan melodies taught to him by his father. All for strangers and people passing through his life that he cared little-to-naught for. He had even played for the other researchers during the initial setup at camp Coinach. But when  _ she _ arrived an oddly kindred soul—curious, invoking intrepidation in those around her—he talked circles around her, but avoided expressing himself completely in her presence. Trying to become something  _ else.  _ Something that he  _ wasn’t. _

In the end, it had been easier to close the tower doors behind without fulfilling a simple promise for someone that had fulfilled  _ everything _ for him and would have never seen him again.  _ What a fool…  _ And now, when asked, he would only dig up more of the same excuses the young historian had managed to make?

“I’m sorry, Lily.” He sighed, his eyes to the floor with shame. “I’m afraid what you said might make a great deal more sense than I realized.”

Rather than let this time together turn sombre and sullen however, Lily soon scooted forward in her seat, laying down her instrument to touch his crystal hand gently, tenderly.

“It isn’t too late to share now... If I sang a Hingan folk song or the like, maybe it would be easier to get used to… But would you still want to hear it even if you couldn’t understand?”

“Of course I would.” He answered not a moment offbeat. The Exarch placed his spoken hand on top of hers and gave an equally gentle squeeze back with both hands. 

“Though as I said before, I won’t push you. If you choose to let me hear you- well, I care not if you recite the alphabet! I’ll treasure it as I treasure the time you have given back to me.”

Lily smiled brightly at him. So brightly, like the sun itself. And he counted himself glad that he no longer dwelled in the shadows, quiet and alone on the other side of that door. Lily’s other hand came atop his spoken hand and caressed it in a way that sent a joyful shiver through his spine, made him huff an awkward laugh as his ear twitched.

“Will you do the same someday? Even if you were to sing the absolute dumbest diddy you could find this side of Norvrandt?” 

After a pause, he nodded firmly.

“‘Tis only fair, I suppose. I will endeavor to both keep my promise and find  _ something _ that could potentially fall under that category.”

The Warrior of two worlds giggled as she straightened up her body and picked up the harp resting in her lap. The Exarch waited patiently and with bated breath all at once while Lily plucked for a while longer. Eventually taking deep breaths, signifying an attempt.

“This’ll be… a love song from the sea.”

* * *

Before a roaring campfire, surrounded by the glow of hundreds of splintering crystals and the company of friends new and old, G’raha Tia traded a look with the Warrior joined with him at the hip, tail wrapped around hers, then began strumming a cheerful tune on his lute. As his voice rose up in the night, so did the one beside him—and they soon infected another, and another, and so on, until the old camp was alive with a union it had never seen before. 

Theirs was a song that transcended from one island to another, to the next world over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but at some point during that ending merriment, just remember there's going to be like a ye olde rendition of Jimmy Cracked Corn because of what Lily said.
> 
> If you spot a particular paragraph during the 1st timeframe that Makes You Go Hmm, it's something I haven't gotten to in Crystal Memories.  
> And this is not the end of the details relating to G'raha's vocal constipation regarding their story either. It will come up again in the future....


	5. never have i ever (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 prompt: Game (G'raha Tia/Ambiguous WoL) - Rating T  
> G'raha Tia likes playing games with you. Perhaps that's why you can't figure out how he feels about you? This time, he'll be made to play -your- games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a COMPLETELY ORIGINAL IDEA that nobody has ever done before, ever. /sarcasm xD
> 
> The name is on the tin so you know what you're getting into with this lol. Ambiguous (1st-person "You") WoL. They do not get slam-dunk drunk in this tho.

He has never played the particular game you’ve proposed, but you always feel as though he is playing _some_ kind of game with you, whether he means to or not.

He isn’t the most flirtatious per se, but a number of stolen glances at you, mild anomalies in the way he behaves around you apparently has everyone else at the camp certain that the historian has a thing for you. 

You want to believe it. From the way G’raha talks so passionately about the things he loves, to the way his ears and tail express bottled emotions, to the way his mismatched eyes shine when he looks up at you from his lute while singing—you’re smitten with the Seeker, and he is something you would treasure—if he’d let you. Every time you think you’re convinced of the same, you give him a little opening to make a move. But for one reason or another, whether he simply likes you as a friend or is content to play with you—he never takes it.

And you _want_ him to take it, of course. But you have to be sure.

So you’re going to play another game, on your terms.

You affix G’raha with a playful look as you pour both shot glasses in front of you to the brim. Sitting with his legs crossed in front of you, you notice how his tail picks up from the floor and begins to tap with anticipation.

He’s so very cute like that.

“Remind me how this game is to be played again?” G’raha has a surprisingly confident look about him for someone who has to be reminded.

“I will say something I’ve never done before, starting with ‘never have I ever,’ and then if you have done it before, you take a shot. Then it’s your turn to do the same.”

“Hm.” He leans forward, eyeing the little glass of liquor in front of him and asks, “And you say this is a good game for getting to know one another? Have we not gotten to know each other plenty over the past several days?”

You had. By the campfire, for several bells, almost every night. But still.

You tilt your head as he carefully picks up his liquor with two fingers to prepare, as if he _knows_ you will be getting him to drink fairly quickly.

“Or do you simply wish to see me keel over, my friend? Surely you’ve experienced many things in your adventure that I haven’t dreamed of!”

You laugh out loud at him and shake your head.

Well, it _would_ be something to see G’raha drunk off his arse, but perhaps another time. Right now your aim is just to ascertain where you stand; to find out whether or not the historian has any feelings for you. Not even to make a move. _Just to know,_ at least for now. Even if that gets you both a little tipsy in the process.

“Never!” You say in a way that will make him question whether or not you mean it, and G’raha splits another amused grin at you. 

“Why, I just think there are plenty of fun things you’ve not told me about yourself! And as your friend, I would know them. You can ask me anything you want, too. That’s the fun of this game. And one more rule—”

You take the opportunity to scoot a little closer to him, careful not to spill your own glass, but just so that you’re close enough to apply pressure. G’raha’s ears stand up visibly for a moment when you get closer.

“I want you to look me in the eyes when you take a drink, so that I know it’s the truth.”

The look on his face changes from one of surprise, of a man who’s been put at a disadvantage somehow—to a look more befitting that of the cocky archer who is very used to playing games, and has done so with you from the first day of your “meeting.” 

One ear flicks at you. You almost flush at how terribly, devilishly charming he looks right now.

“Very well then.”

This can go both ways, you realize.

“Okay. Let’s see… Never have I ever-” 

You pause, look at G’raha looking at you. No qualms, as ready to drink as he is ready to make _you_ drink, and you’re already questioning if this whole thing was a mistake. You wonder if the sly Seeker won’t be the first to floor you with inebriation before you can figure out if he loves you—if he _likes_ you, even.

“-Gotten myself shitefaced in front of a friend,” You declare proudly. 

You haven’t. It’s the truth, and you think it may do something to intimidate your opponent.

G’raha looks a little surprised at least. Just for a moment, he stops to think with his knuckles to his lips. A cute pout sets in on his lips shortly after then as he prepares to knock his first back. 

You’re curious, but you don’t ask.

“Eyes here?”

Slitted eyes on you, he drinks, and then you refill his glass.

“I see you will not be going easy on me. Then neither will I… Never have I ever been drenched from head-to-toe in the foul musk of a malboro!” 

It is your turn to make a comical pout that has G’raha showing a toothy grin, knowing he’s got you. And ah, he’s probably done his homework, knowing what lurks in The Tangle just west of the camp. 

Graha’s clever, lest you be reminded. He could use your adventurer-hero status to trump you all day long, and then you might end up having to drink to your very first question.

_‘This game needs to get personal a little bit faster,’_ You think. Mind you, the tricks and questions could also get _dirtier_ just as quick, as things were wont to be with alcohol in the mixture.

After you drink, you clear you throat. You’re not nervous. You won’t break in front of this man. The worst that could happen is learning a few embarrassing truths about one another, but at the end of the day you will still be friends, right?

_‘What could I broach first without being rather rude? Or should I just go for it?’_

G’raha notices the time you take to parse your next move.

“Worry not, my friend. I can hold my liquor… adequately.”

A chuckle escapes you.

“Alright, alright~” You stretch, and in doing so, reach into the depths of your personal inexperience.

* * *

You’re tipsy and light feeling, but so is the Seeker in front of you. He has told you in many words, obviously feeling bubbly—about his scholarly misadventures in Sharlayan, a few passing fancies there that never bloomed into anything more, and from this you could garner a further interest in seeing someone. G’raha had elaborated in between drinks, and you leaned in and listened intently. Occasionally spaced out to admire delicate yet masculine features.

He isn’t too drunk yet. You can tell G’raha still has his wits even as he spills the details of his personal life to you with ease (relishing that he’s so comfortable with you). He certainly still had them when he got you to take a shot for technically having shared a bed with someone before; one of the Scions, you clarified when he tilted his chin with genuine interest. And not for anything sexual, just business. G’raha seemed to accept your answer without prodding further.

It’s back to your turn now, though. You’re feeling bold enough to take a leap of faith.

“Never have I ever fallen for an adventurer along my journey.”

The topic is very sudden, and the Seeker totally freezes for once. His tail goes limp behind him, devoid of its content, tapping rhythm. The lop of his ears say it all—or they say a lot of _something,_ but you won’t know for certain unless G’raha drinks. There’s a moment where his eyes wander down to the glass on the floor like he knows the rules, but they dart back up again, like he has been hunted into a corner and doesn’t know whether to confront or to flee. Such a specific question, he’d be hard-pressed to ignore what you might be insinuating, regardless of whether any other heartthrob adventurers had crossed G’raha’s path in the past.

As for you, you have never fallen for another of your profession. _A scholar,_ though...

A quiet “hmph” leaves G’raha’s lips, just as a tiny smile appears in the corner. He sticks to your rules to the best of his ability, struggling with the eye contact for a moment, but you let it slide as he gulps. There’s a feeling fluttering in your stomach, but no sooner than he finishes-

“Never have I ever taken interest—N-no.... Never have I ever-” He sits up straight suddenly. His hiccup combined with noticeably pinkening cheeks either from the liquor or the prompt or both surprise you.

“-Proposed a most elaborate game to signify my interest in a potential romantic partner.” 

Your jaw hangs loose, but he continues, fluffed red tail now thumping on the floor in a show of flustering, bordering tipsy-agitation at your roundabout ways.

“Never have I been so bold to steal what I truly desire from them. Never have I—”

Without further prompt, you not only drink once, but pour yourself another for the second thing G’raha said, and the subsequent thing that hasn’t even left his lips yet. You drink three times in a row, in a rapid succession that makes you cough over the sensation of the moderately rough alcohol burning your throat as the historian watches in horror-shock of it. For your honesty and commitment. For the _vigor_ at which you consume your fill at a game he believes was played just to trip him up into a confession. 

He’s shocked further as you surge forward on your knees just shy of knocking over his drink, and tug him by the vest for a kiss. He only makes a tiny noise.

It isn’t a hungry kiss. You hadn’t played this out to get away with something salacious. You only pull G’raha Tia close and mash your lips against his like it’s some teenage crush (but it isn’t), and replace one of your hands gently behind his neck at the hairline as you savor the warmth of his lips. G’raha remains rigid for a long moment, holding his breath, and you wonder if he’s even closed his eyes. If he hates this. If he was really annoyed at you, just now.

You feel fingers at the back of your head, gingerly touching your hair as plush lips test yours. You tilt your head and slide until you lock together perfectly. Open your eyes to blink back and communicate that this isn’t just some drunken kiss with a random target to score on, and you aren’t merely playing games with him. G’raha’s long lashes eventually flutter shut in trust of your feelings. You hum against his lips to show your satisfaction and swear for half a second that something vibrates back.

You end up kissing for a full minute, just like that. And of all the little one-offs you’ve had in your life, none of them have quite been so pleasant. So _honest,_ somehow. It’s the answer you longed for… albeit obtained through more proactive means than you intended.

When the moment is said and done, and your hands find themselves modestly back in each of your laps, G’raha trades you a long, flushed stare before attempting to clear his throat, and hiccups right after, looking away fast with embarrassment.

“I hope I didn’t just get away with that because you’re smashed?”

You’re still very close to G’raha as you offer a gentle finger under his chin to turn his hot pink face toward you. He doesn’t flinch and makes no attempt to move away from you, just grabs your hand, and—well, _holds it._

G’raha grins.

“N-no, not at all! _Hic!_ I’ll have you know despite my body’s reaction I was very— _Hic! …_ Sound of mind throughout. In fact-”

He lets go of your hand only to reach for the depleting bottle of alcohol, and your eyebrows nearly ascend off your forehead at the prospect that he still wants to _continue the game._ By right, it would be your turn, but it’s not your glass that G’raha fills. 

You throw the miniature scholar a most peculiar look when he holds his glass high into the air.

“Never have I ever… had such stirrings for the adventurer in front of me.”

He drinks to his own lie, then takes hold of the side of your face and brings his lips to yours once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at calendar* dafuq honestly


	6. to keep the darkness at bay (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 prompt: Hurt/Comfort (Aymeric de Borel/Specific WoL) - Rating T  
> Lilium recovers from grave wounds, and sometimes graver thoughts. It helps to have someone there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I would get an Aymeric in here, even if it's faint affection dipped in story, this is something I've been meaning to write one way or another...
> 
> This is very similar to number 3 - unintentionally, both are about the aftermath of Ghimlyt, and this one covers what happened to Lilium! Whereas in the game it feels a little bit more vague as to what happened to us and Aymeric kind of takes off back to fighting, I have a different take for her, and she did get VERY hurt by Zenos. And Aymeric, well.....
> 
> CW for some descriptions of violence, psychological trauma, near-death experience stuff. They aren't in a relationship but have feelings for one another and I repeat, the affections are a much more subtle thing!

_ “Do you recall your clash with the crown prince?” _

_ She had given a weak nod from her still place on the bed, head propped up and supported awkwardly by a long cushion and wadded up blankets, the chirurgeons ill-equipped to make an injured Auri comfortable. She had glanced down to see the bandages wrapped around her chest and ribcage when the ache first began rippling through her upper body. _

_ Aymeric recounted things slowly with her as she came back to life. He had a slightly downcast look about him, clear blue eyes politely regarding the patchwork on her frame, obscured by a loose shirt and sheets on top of her. If it wasn’t for that face, Lilium would’ve realized they had been successful sooner. _

_ “Those that bore witness to your duel say you appeared to have a fit of sorts, and watched you grapple with consciousness. It was during that moment of disarmament that Zenos drew his blade and slew you. Or rather—” _

_ Aymeric had leaned on his elbows in his seat beside the bed, placing his lips close to his folded hands.  _

_ “... He would have, had Estinien not struck him unawares, affecting the trajectory of his attack against you. Thank the Gods he arrived when he did.” _

For the first time, The Warrior of Light could consider herself thoroughly beaten. She had been defeated before—stood up and had the constitution to limp away from a battle—but she hadn’t been  _ “slain”  _ before. 

The verb felt accurate. There had been blood. Hot blood, and then  _ coldness.  _

Brushes with death were just a part of life now. Last night was no brush. She had been slit open by the grim reaper’s scythe, and yet the angel of death forgot to collect.

She was sewn now, but could scarce forget the cold eyes of that man looking down at her. Or the  _ voice  _ of the one that kept calling her, this time, almost unto oblivion. She knew not Zenos’ true intentions, nor the man with the crystalline arm, whether or not he called her a friend. It was hard to be sure who wanted her dead, who wanted her alive.

The one thing Lilium did know, was that when Aymeric de Borel visited her bedside, she felt safe.

Whenever in doubt, lying limp and staring at walls in what felt like a quiet purgatory—the pain of torn flesh reminded her that she lived, but it also kept her exhausted. The first time Aymeric visited her, she could do naught but listen to his voice. 

He talked to her when there was no one else left that could. She thought he sounded like something was caught in his throat when he thanked the Gods she had survived, and he did his utmost to assure her about her condition and the outside world until she nodded off. In her dazed, half-asleep state, Lilium sometimes listened to the crackling fireplace in the room and imagined she was tucked in beside the Speaker of the House, instead of by herself in the vast expanse of a bed designed to accommodate the tallest Ishgardian. There were more delusional fantasies like that. None which she would admit to.

_ Though, when he left, the Auri was alone with her broken body. Alone in her dreams, facing Zenos surrounded by the flames of war. Lilium would get knocked down, or fall down, inevitably. While she writhed on the ground from the call of the crystal man, she would remain conscious as her allies rained from the sky and hit the ground around them (including people she already knew to be dead). Zenos would grab her hair and whisper disgusting things; only half of which were in-character. She would hear them only because they were in a dream, as both of her horns dangled from his armor like trophies. Like the blades he stole from those he’d conquered by force. And then he’d cut her again. _

And she would wake with a start.

She was rested enough to react strongly on the third day of Aymeric’s visit, gasping in bed.  _ ‘Visit,’ _ she thought, but there had to be a reason why the man was seated at her bedside already when she awoke. Lilium noticed how he jolted in his seat when she’d first jolted awake, and a flush crept across his cheeks when her eyes met his.

“Did I startle you?” He asked, to a shake of her head.

_ He didn’t seem to know, and she didn’t want to tell. _

“You’re… here to apprise me of things outside? The Scions’ conditions?”

Aymeric’s mouth hung open slightly for a moment before a gentle smile appeared on his lips. “Unchanged as far as I know, but… no. Suffice it to say, I simply wanted to support you, as I am no longer needed at the moment, for combat or otherwise... I remember you visiting me in my pitiful state while I recovered from my stab wound, and I couldn’t imagine not paying you the same level of courtesy.”

Lilium opened her mouth, but Aymeric caught his poor choice in words and recalculated before she could tell him it wasn't necessary.

“I  _ chose _ to stay behind. Not as a formality. Our best can manage whatever skirmishes remain. Though I do not know if my presence is of any comfort to you, the chirurgeons have let slip about your nightmares. I-I have heard you whimper in your sleep myself, and needless to say, I am concerned… as a friend.”

It must have been the first time she really smiled, and she heard a soft sigh leave Aymeric’s breath as he was smiling back at her. He was so calm most of the time, and Lilium lost track of how long she stared into his cool blue eyes. There was a respect there, as awkward as she had made it. He wore the long silences so well, and even when his gaze so scarcely tumbled down the scales of her neck, he did well not to turn the moment into a fumbling mess.

“Of course, if you wish me to leave you to your rest, I’ll not refuse you the right to do so in peace.”

The Elezen, leaning closer by, laid his long fingers on the very edge of the bed as if he was prepared to get up within the minute.

She didn’t  _ want _ him to go, of course. When he went, he would not take the image of Zenos away with him. Wouldn’t shake the picture of death from her mind-

Lilium reached for Aymeric’s hand and pried his fingers from the edge of the mattress with ease—he didn’t put up any resistance. She curled her fingers underneath his from the top and felt how  _ warm _ he was. Perhaps what she had done was too inappropriate. Heat ate up her face as she beheld the part of Aymeric’s lips.

“Please, stay with me. Could you?” Lilium pressed her lips together. She couldn’t turn her head too far top of the cushion and blankets propping her up, and even doing so slightly made her aware of all the hurt muscles in her upper body that were connected when she did so. But she dared herself to angle her chin and face the handsome former knight whose hand she’d copped for her own comfort. For sincerity’s sake.

“Your presence, it- it means more than you know… Ser Aymeric.”

Lilium, however, was wont to fumble in situations such as these. She added his title to let him know she meant no disrespect, though it may have come off more coldly than intended. 

He stayed still, even closed both hands around hers. Hot with embarrassment, the Auri turned her nose back toward the ceiling and squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m the only one left.”

A quiet inhale caught her attention.

“Nay,” Aymeric responded. “Though some of your comrades are presently incapacitated, that is not to say they will be tomorrow. Furthermore, you have the rest of The Scions, Cid Garlond and his Ironworks… General Raubahn, myself, Lucia, all of Ishgard and several more allies in the Near and Far East that would chomp at the bit to fight for you. In the darkest times, you did not abandon them, and neither shall these forces abandon you… So I must disagree; you are _far_ from alone.”

Then Aymeric chuckled to himself. Something he had only done at the dinner table, whenever he invited Lilium for meals. It was an honest noise, more like how he was at those times, when he told her how he liked to cook and would like to try furnishing the table with some of his own home comfort cooking on the next occasion. When they learned more of each other’s personal interests, and not just how to work alongside one another on the battlefront. That was the last time they really spoke like this, outside of letters.

“That is my generic response. But the one I have from the heart, if you will hear it…”

She gave Aymeric’s hand a squeeze, a grin forming. 

“Please.”

“Not a day has gone by that I haven’t considered your words at our first meal, and pitted it against my better judgement. I  _ do _ wish to remain by your side, in more ways than I’m currently capable of. I’m incredibly grateful that you live to smile another day, and I’d be even more grateful if you- Well, let’s say that I prefer not to sit without you in the evenings. The wine does not pair well with a table for one, it seems.”

“Oh?” 

They forced a laugh together (even though it hurt one of them), still joined at the hand. Inside the Warrior of Light’s damaged chest, her heart drummed at the implications, recalling the conversation at their first dinner wherein she first extended her invitation for a journey. He had looked so delighted, for a moment having the weight of another position thrust onto him fall away for a moment. Lilium knew that feeling, although she hated it; _when things were just not meant to be._

“There will be a time and place for that! But I understand it is not now. For now, Lilium…”

The Elezen lowered his head. He looked to their inappropriately joined hands—much too close for comrades who were familiar but not yet to courting. Made an effort to withhold further promises… and just smiled somberly.

“Allow me to keep the darkness at bay, in whatever small way I can. It is my honor.”

Lilium made an amused sound at how trite Aymeric was in his solemness, and could nearly see with her eyes closed the tilt of the man’s broad ears.

“That is what  _ I  _ do,” She remarked absently, only half making sense. Having expended enough energy for now for someone who had bled out, she was ready to doze again. Before she did, she felt a brief caress of the thumb, and a mutter.

“So it is…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been reading my other stuff with Lily, F for my man Aymeric who did not get his day. Can't wait for patch 5.4: Awkward Dinner Date With My Boyfriend And This Elf I Friendzoned. I'm serious, I will be going there Eventually(TM).....
> 
> Btw disclaimer, I've never written Aymeric in my life and only just refreshed myself on this cutscene the other day, forgive me for this awful stunted writing. As it turns out, trying to condense a relationship/dynamic into story in 1 entry you're trying to keep shorter is uh. 2 hard 4 me.


	7. what's yours is mine (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 prompt: "Stop hogging all the blankets!" (G'raha Tia/Specific WoL) - Rating T  
> G'raha loves sleeping in the same bed as Lily. Except when that bed is in Ishgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lizard goes brrrr... because she's cold.
> 
> Suggestive things in this one but not too bad~

Lily loved to share most things with him, G’raha realized. He felt so lucky and endlessly loved that she shared so much with him, from her home, to her cooking, her crafts and spell techniques, to the details about her life that he had completely missed in his absence. She was only a little bit stingy about a couple things when it came to him; her sweets, certain pages of her journal that she wasn’t ready to share…

And, ah…  _ the blankets. _

G’raha shivered in the fetal position, baby hairs on the back of his neck prickling up as goosebumps formed on his bare legs.

They had made the commute to Ishgard to help out with restoration effort, and after a hard day’s work settled down at a comfortable inn. It hadn’t felt that cold while they were working, nor having their bedtime tea, and certainly  _ not _ during lovemaking.

But as the Auri turned and gradually tore the covers from his body in her sleep, G’raha conceded, it was not nearly warm enough with the fire going on the far side of the room. 

There was a draft somewhere, beside the bed. Aimed at him, specifically. He would have to amputate a limb in the morning. It didn’t usually bother G’raha this much, him being the one that stayed warmer while Lily sought warmth in his arms and his lap (and he was all too happy to find an excuse to provide). But as it turned out, Ishgard was a fair bit more frigid when things were the way they were supposed to be.

He didn’t want to wake Lily up, though. She had done her fair share of relief efforts during the day, and he felt bad thinking about how she’d sometimes moan when he woke her for something. Even if she wouldn’t remember it later, she’d occasionally be downright  _ pissed. _

G’raha made one more attempt to bear it. His last resort: an age-old technique for keeping warm, known to his people as  _ ‘The Loaf.’ _ G’raha rolled onto his front, placing his chin on the pillow, folded both arms and pulled his knees underneath him, wrapping his tail neatly around his body. 

His ears pinned back with disappointment at how uncomfortable this was. A kit could pull it off, maybe, but…

_ ‘I am not a cat,’  _ G’raha thought to himself grumpily.  _ ‘I am a man.’ _

After a while more of no success at sleeping, he sighed, placed a gentle hand on his lover, swaddled warm inside the blankets, and shook.

“Lily.” He said once, then moved her again, slightly harder this time.  _ “Love-“ _

“Whyyyyy…?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, but felt pity.

“I’m sorry! Sorry… I’m very cold. Could I please have some of the blankets?”

There was a long silence filled with nothing but the creaking of the establishment caused by heavy winds, creating that damnable draft across his ankles. G’raha thought she had fallen back to sleep, so he persisted at trying to wake her, slightly more annoyed than before.

The Seeker started crassly, “My  _ dear—“ _

“I gave you,” was all Lily muttered back, and it was the final straw.

“Yes, I know, but then you—! Oh, for heaven’s- Stop hogging all the blankets!” 

G’raha got a grip of the layers of blankets, some parts tucked and somehow rolled under the Auri, others bunched up on top of her—but all unfairly  _ hers _ —and  _ yanked. _ He had yanked so hard that he not only secured his share of them, but pulled them clean off of Lily so that she was left lying exposed in her nightgown.

_ “Hey-!” _

She was awake now, and sat up with an angry pout.

“W-well? How does it feel?”

Lily didn’t answer. There were dark enough crescents under her eyes still, and she was likely too tired to argue. Just sat there while G’raha sighed and spread out the blankets once more, evenly distributing them across the large bed meant for Elezens.  _ Surely _ there was enough here, that they could share this, too.

Finally underneath, legs tingling with newfound warmth, G’raha held the blanket open with one arm, leaving an open cave for Lily to crawl in. She declared a truce, rubbing her eyes and crawling in next to him, hooking a leg over one of his. She laid her head down in the crook of G’raha’s arm and found a comfortable place for her horns to settle, each one sheathed by the silly “socks” she had insisted on knitting for his comfort. Instead of apologizing, G’raha felt a warm kiss on his cheek after a moment, and accepted it thusly.

“I can’t sleep now,” She said after a few minutes passed with neither of them lulling off, and G’raha frowned and hummed in agreement. At least he was enjoying the heat Lily gave him, with her arm across his middle. Though,  _ perhaps, _ the Miqo’te mused to himself, drumming his fingers atop scales…

He turned on his side, slid down a little in the sheets, and brought his lips to Lily’s neck, wrapping both arms around her.

“Uh?”

G’raha kissed his love’s neck lazily, sliding a hand under her nightgown to rest respectfully on her side.

_ “Again. _ Let’s share warmth, and then fall asleep in one another’s arms? That ought to expend some more energy.”

Lily cocked an eyebrow at him when he looked up from her chest with hopeful eyes and pointed ears. She began rubbing one at the soft tip, and after a moment of considering it, slung one leg over G’raha’s waist. She closed her eyes again.

“Nnn, you do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always snuggle your catboy.

**Author's Note:**

> Come bark at me on twitter @ noodlephysics !


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